First, the concept of “launch” is a bit different from the writer’s end. She’s already sent the manuscript away over and over again – to the editor, to the copy editor, for page proofs, and on and on. And yet the darned thing keeps coming back like a pesky cat and, sadly, editors are about as easy to ignore as a yowling Siamese hanging from the screen door. What began as infatuation with one’s literary child quickly morphs to irritation. That’s a sure sign Baby Book has hit the difficult toddler stage.
But books grow up too fast. When it finally launches, the author doesn’t actually have much of a role to play anymore. Sure, a party is nice, but all the stuff that matters is all beyond her control, subject to grand and incomprehensible market forces. Baby Book is all grown up, out in the cold, cruel world and about to encounter fast cars and loose readers. Will the universe be kind?